


Kanaya: Initiate Voyeuristic Gossip Memo

by Lyraeon



Series: Fruity Rumpus Afterlife Road Trip [18]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fruity Rumpus Afterlife Road Trip, Gen, Meteorstuck, Pesterlog, Temporary Character Death, Underage Drinking, can be read independently of series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyraeon/pseuds/Lyraeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By a year and a half into the journey, Dave and Karkat’s useless squabbling has become a spectator sport among the girls, because frankly there’s not much else to do. Add a six pack of cider and this wake cycle might actually be entertaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kanaya: Open Memo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AOrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOrange/gifts).



CURRENT grimAuxiliatrix [CGA] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board R41NBOW RUMPUS P4RTYTOWN - WOM3N'S 1NT3R3STS D1V1S1ON (BOYS K33P OUT!!!).

CGA: Ladies You Must Come To The Common Room At Once  
CGA: Dave Has Been Imbibing Soporific Beverages And If My Own Experience Is Indicative Of Typical Human Inebriated Behavior Then His Present Argument With Karkat Should Prove Entertaining  
CURRENT gallowsCalibrator [CGC] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.  
CGC: OOOO  
CGC: 1S 4NYON3 BL33D1NG?  
CGA: Not At The Moment But I Feel It Is Inevitable  
CGC: 1T'S 4LW4YS 1N3V1T4BL3 W1TH THOS3 TWO  
CGA: A Reasonable Evaluation  
CGC: SO HOW 1N3V1T4BL3 4R3 W3 T4LK1NG  
CGC: SC4L3 OF 1-10  
CGC: 1'M R3P4V1NG TH3 S3N4TOR L3MONSNOUT M3MOR14L ST4D1UM P4RK1NG LOT R1GHT NOW 4ND 1'M NOT L34V1NG FOR 4NYTH1NG UND3R 4 4.  
FUTURE carcinoGeneticist [FCG] 2 HOURS FROM NOW responded to memo.  
FCG: FUCK  
FCG: THIS IS WHY ALL OF YOU CAME RUSHING IN WHEN I FOUND STRIDER GIGGLING LIKE A FUCKING WIGGLER ON THE FLOOR EARLIER, ISN'T IT?  
FCG: FUCK ALL OF YOU NOOKSNIFFERS.  
CGC: 1 C4N H34R YOU SCR34M1NG FROM C4NTOWN  
CGC: BUT 1 GU3SS NOW TH4T 1 KNOW 1 COM3 DOWN TH3R3 1 M1GHT 4S W3LL HURRY 1T UP!  
FCG: NO!  
FCG: FUCK  
FCG: I DON'T NEED YOUR STUPID SHIPPING HORSEHIT MUCKING UP MY ATTEMPTS AT-  
FCG: WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING.  
FCG: IT'S TOO FUCKING LATE YOU'VE ALREADY COME DOWN AND MADE YOURSELF A BUSHPOINT IN MY ASS  
CGC: OH MY GOG K4RKL3S  
CGC: 1T'S NOT SH1PP1NG HORS3SH1T, 1 JUST W4NT TO KNOW 1F 1 H4V3 T1M3 TO STOP BY TH3 LO4DG4P3R B3FOR3 1 COM3 W4TCH  
CGC: 1F 31TH3R OF YOU G3T SL4SH3D OP3N 1 W4NT 4 FRONT ROW SN1FF  
CGC: DO3S 4NYON3 D13?  
FCG: DID YOU JUST SERIOUSLY FUCKING ASK ME IF YOUR BULGELICKING EXCUSE FOR A MATESPRIT DIES WITHIN THE NEXT TWO HOURS?  
FCG: SPECIFICALLY IF I KILL HIM?  
FCG: BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY IF I'M WASTING MY TIME ON THIS STUPID FUCKING MESSAGE BOARD, I MUST STILL BE ALIVE.  
FCG: FOR WHATEVER THAT'S WORTH ON THIS FUCKING METEOR  
CGA: I For One Hope That No One Dies  
CGA: The Argument Is Currently Verbal Only And While I Believe It Wont Be Long Before It Escalates  
CGA: I Plan On Stepping In Before Any Fatal Injuries Can Occur  
FCG: SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING IS,  
FCG: THE WHOLE TIME THAT YOU WERE SITTING IN THAT CHAIR PRETENDING TO READ WHILE I WAS TRYING TO DRAG STRIDER OFF THE FUCKING FLOOR, YOU WERE JUST WAITING FOR THINGS TO REACH A POINT THAT YOU COULD GET YOUR ASHEN JOLLIES OFF BY BREAKING UP OUR FIGHT?  
CGA: ...When Phrased In That Manner My Behavior Does Sound Questionable  
CGA: However No Dragging Has Yet Occurred From My Perspective And I Would Like To Remain In A Non Doomed Timeline So Your Omission Of Future Details So I May Remain Surprised At Them Would Be Appreciated  
FCG: HOLY SHIT THIS REALLY IS ENTERTAINMENT TO YOU, ISN'T IT?  
FCG: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?  
CGC: 1T'S ONLY 3NT3RT41N1NG TO M3 1F ON3 OF YOU 1D1OTS W1NDS UP GOOD 4ND BLOODY >:D  
FCG: WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE COMFORTING?  
FCG: BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING NOT.  
CGC: NO 1T W4S JUST TH3 F4CTS  
FCG: YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW THAT BADLY?  
FCG: YES. I'M BLEEDING ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE. THERE IS SO MUCH BLOOD SPEWING FROM MY CHEST ALL OVER MY KEYBOARD THAT MY BLOCK NOW LOOKS LIKE A DRONE TRIPPED.  
CGC: H3H3H3H3H3  
FCG: YOU SICKEN ME.  
FCG: ALSO THAT WAS SARCASM IN CASE YOU COULDN'T TELL.  
FCG: THE PART ABOUT ME LOSING A FATAL AMOUNT OF BLOOD AND POSSIBLY DYING, NOT THE PART ABOUT MY DISGUST.  
CGA: As Charming As Your Flirtation Is I Must Admit It Is Making It Difficult To Pay Attention To The Fight Occurring Before Me  
FCG: WHAT'S THE MATTER KANAYA, DON'T KNOW WHO ELSE YOU'RE PUTTING IN THIS QUADRANT YOU SEEM SO DEAD SET IN HAVING ME IN WITH YOU?  
CGA: No I Am Merely Hoping To Prevent The Occurrence Of A Grievous Injury Such As The One You Have Just Facetiously Described  
PAST tentacleTherapist [PTT] THIRTY MINUTES AGO responded to memo.  
PTT: Am I to assume this discussion means that my dearest brother is enjoying the cider I alchemized for him?  
CGA: That Seems To Be The Case  
PTT: I'll wait for Terezi and follow her down. I hate arriving too early to a performance like this, better to act surprised.  
CGA: I Have Prepared A Seat For You Already  
FCG: OR YOU COULD GET YOUR ASS DOWN THERE NOW BEFORE I FIND A STAIRCASE SO YOU CAN REALLY BE A MATCHED SET.  
FCG: TWO DRUNK HALF-NAKED ALIENS WITH IDIOTIC GRINS ON THEIR FACES BLEEDING ALL OVER THE HALLWAY.  
PTT: And here I thought you didn't want to wind up in a doomed timeline? You're writing to us from the future, so we both know when I walk in, and I'd rather keep it that way.  
FCG: YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD LALONDE.  
FCG: I MEAN IT. THIS IS YOUR ONE HOUR WARNING. FROM MY TIME.  
PTT: Good thing I kept the captcha for that apple cider I gave Dave then, I want to be properly anesthetized for the occasion. Three and a half hours should be just enough time.  
FCG: WHAT? NO.  
FCG: YOU'LL FIGHT ME PROPERLY DAMN'T.  
PTT: Not really in the mood to, sorry Vantas.  
FCG: THIS IS NON-NEGOTIABLE.  
PTT: Last I checked, so was this board being for the viewing and speaking of females only. I know the line's a little blurrier with your species but we leave you and Dave to your guy time quite often, so...  
PTT: Goodbye!  
[PTT] banned [FCG] from responding to memo.  
CGC: 4WW YOU D1DN'T G1V3 H1M T1M3 TO R34CT  
PTT: You'll see plenty of mad Karkat in just a few minutes, I'm sure.  
CGA: Yes  
CGA: I Really Feel You Should Hurry And Join Me  
CGA: Strider Appears To Be Using His Cape To Initiate Some Form Of Grub Entertainment Ritual With Karkat  
CGC: Y3S 1 KNOW 1'M ON MY W4Y  
CGC: BUT 1 ST1LL W1SH H3 WOULD H4V3 4NSW3R3D MY QU3ST1ON >:T  
FUTURE gallowsCallibrator [FGC] SEVEN HOURS FROM NOW responded to memo.  
FGC: SO MUCH BLOOD  
FGC: HURRY UP  
FGC: YOU W1LL NOT B3 D1SS4PO1NT3D >:]  
CGC: TH4NK YOU M3  
CGC: 1 C4N 4LW4YS COUNT ON YOU TO D3L1V3R TH3 1MPORT4NT F4CTS >;D  
FGC: 1T'S MY PL34SUR3 >;D  
FUTURE gallowsCallibrator [FGC] has left memo.  
CURRENT gallowsCallibrator [CGC] has left memo.  
PTT: I suppose I'd better go get in position if I want to get my timing correct, hadn't I?  
CGA: Yes I'd Advise It  
PAST tentacleTherapist [PTT] has left memo.  
CURRENT grimAuxiliatrix [CGA] has closed memo.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA] \--

TT: By the way, darling.  
TT: Don't think I'm going to let you off the hook so easily for that "if my own experience is any indication" bit from your memo earlier.  
TT: Can't have everyone on this meteor thinking I'm some sort of lush, now can we?   
GA: No I Suppose Not  
GA: My Sincerest Apologies My Dear Rose   
TT: Your indiscretion is forgiven. <3  
TT: Now let's laugh as my brother is lured in by the siren call of caliginous interspecies concupiscence.   
GA: I Am Still Quite Certain Their Affections Will Ultimately Prove Pale   
TT: We shall see. I'd say "time will tell", but as he's indisposed at the moment, I don't think his opinion will be of much use.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA] \--


	2. Dave's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entertainment is often a matter of perspective.

>Be the guy oblivious to his incoming tabloid celebrity status

Your name is Dave Strider, and for the first time in 78 weeks, you have no fucking idea what time it is.

Arguably, you've never been happier in your life.

A little voice in your head, one that sounds suspiciously like Rose's, is telling you that of course you feel delusionally happy right now, that's a common psychological effect of alcohol. Naturally, you're ignoring the hell out of that voice, because you hear Rose's lectures often enough from the outside so you don't need her turning into your conscience. People who think making deals with gothic tentacle gods that involve blowing up critical pieces of reality qualify as good decisions shouldn't be trusted as consciences anyway.

Still, you indulge the thought for a few seconds. Have you ever been this happy before? You remember making some godawful godzilla parody like a year back, that was pretty sweet. You're still a virgin, so the go-to happy for guys your age isn't available, but the shit you and your space girlfriend do get up to is pretty fantastic. Especially last night, last night was super. Last you checked your sister hadn't beaten you to the horizontal tango either and you're pretty fucking sure gloating about that made you pretty damn happy, especially when you realized that there's no way you're not going to beat John there at this stage, not that there was any chance of that anyway. Back into the safe for work side of your brain, TZ's birthday party was a couple months back and damn if that wasn't off the hook. Even the Mayor wound up dancing to your beats and shit that had you smiling for a couple days, pokerface be damned. If you think further back, you can remember some good birthday gifts of your own too, or maybe they were Christmas, but regardless there's a stupid grin on your face right now because you're remembering setting up your turntables for the first time and damn, that was fucking awesome.

Even more awesome is the fact that you honest to god have no idea how many minutes, hours, or even days ago that was right now.

The neverending ticking noise is still there, but it's drowned out by whatever bullshit is on TV right now, and the best you can do before your head starts to hurt a little is that it's been 78 weeks and a couple days since you first set foot on this meteor, and it's the middle of October 2010, not that October or 2010 mean anything now that earth's gone.

You picture earth exploding like some kind of cartoonish prop, and you start laughing. Then you remember that your whole damn galaxy was supposedly a giant frog made by king shouty and the space vampire your sister is in lesbians with, and you wind up laughing even harder because holy shit what kind of utter bullcrap is that. You only even believe it because you spent like a week helping Jade with the same thing. Well, for you it was a week, for Jade it was like...

Half a day maybe?

Actually, you have no idea.

You take another long swig from the bottle of apple cider in your right hand, just to make sure it stays that way, then let yourself slouch a little further. As is you've slouched your way clean off the couch, so you're on the floor with your back against it and elbows resting on the seat cushions in some vague attempt to keep you upright.

You hear footsteps, and it takes a moment to register that they're not coming from the TV, and by the time you look up you realize that the newly dimmer-switched space vampire is saying something and you have no idea what it is because you still thought she was the TV.

KANAYA: I Was Wondering Who Was Watching What At Such A Loud Volume   
DAVE: hey  
DAVE: hey  
DAVE: kanaya  
DAVE: hey  
DAVE: ask me what time it is   
KANAYA: I Thought There Were Rules Against That Sort Of Thing   
DAVE: just ask me  
DAVE: trust me  
DAVE: itll be awesome  
DAVE: ready?  
DAVE: ask me   
KANAYA: Alright If You Insist  
KANAYA: Dave What Is The Current Time   
DAVE: I HAVE NO IDEA  
DAVE: hahahahahahahahahaha

You throw your head back as you laugh, letting it rest on the couch, and man the ceiling looks awesome from this angle. You're pretty sure you see something on it, actually, but knowing this place it's just blood. You try tilting your head to get a better angle, but moving your head like that feels oddly fun, like doing a flip or something, so you do it again, but then you realize the space lesbian is talking to you again and you look back up.

DAVE: what   
KANAYA: I Asked If You Were Feeling Well  
KANAYA: I Am Assuming The Current Dampened State Of Your God Tier Abilities Is Due To The Beverage You Have Been Imbibing   
DAVE: im a lil buzzed yeah   
KANAYA: Oh  
KANAYA: My Apologies I Did Not Realize There Was Still A Store Of Mind Honey Around   
DAVE: what   
KANAYA: What

You have a feeling whatever she just said was supposed to make sense, but doesn't, in no small part because you're not an alien. A lot of it's probably that you're probably a bit past "buzzed", but you don't feel like puking or anything and you can still remember what movie is on TV so you're sure you're fine.

Kanaya gawks at you for a moment, so you gawk back, except there's no way she has any idea you're actually staring at her because you have sunglasses on, and man, you have not been taking enough advantage of that fact. Your girlfriend's blind, you should have spent a lot more time staring at her tits by now than you have.

Ha. Time.

You throw your head back again, this time to down the rest of your bottle. There was more left in there than you thought, so it takes a few seconds of chugging, which you cap off with a dramatic exhale of satisfaction that would be the envy of Pepsi commercials everywhere.

You manage to push yourself forward far enough to plop the newly empty bottle next to its four companions on the coffee table, leaving you to slump against the couch again just as Kanaya sits down on the opposite end.

You pull another bottle out of your Sylladex, then cast the lesbialien a quick glance and hold it out toward her.

DAVE: hey  
DAVE: you wan one?   
KANAYA: No That Is Quite Alright  
KANAYA: I Tried Some When Rose First Alchemized It And I Am Afraid I Do Not Enjoy The Flavor  
KANAYA: And In Any Case  
KANAYA: I Am Afraid Its Intended Effects Would Be Wasted On Me As It Appears Our Species Find Different Chemicals Soporific   
DAVE: soap or what now   
KANAYA: I Am Unable To Become Intoxicated By Your Human Alcohol   
DAVE: oh  
DAVE: damn  
DAVE: guess that splains why none a the movies krabby gives me ever has frat parties  
DAVE: shit  
DAVE: yall don even have college do ya   
KANAYA: That Is The Human Intensive Academic Studies Facility?   
DAVE: yeah that sounds bout right   
KANAYA: It Is Reserved For Only Those Highbloods Deemed Worthy Of Pursuing Professions Which Require That Sort Of High Level Training  
KANAYA: Really It Is More Of A Rigidly Structured Group Apprenticeship Than Anything I Have Garnered About Human Education Techniques  
KANAYA: Among Our Group Only Terezi May Have Gone On To Attend Such A Facility At Least Provided She Were Able To Prove Her Disability Was Not A True Impairment  
KANAYA: The Rest Of Us Would Have Gone On To The Military Or The Duties Pertinent To Our Castes As In My Own Case  
KANAYA: Except Tavros  
KANAYA: Tavros Would Have Just Been Culled   
DAVE: damn  
DAVE: howd we go from college parties to kick the cripple  
DAVE: shits gonna bring me down   
KANAYA: Im Sorry   
DAVE: nah its cool  
DAVE: but man tz in college  
DAVE: thats a fucking riot to imagine  
DAVE: like her at harvard just like  
DAVE: licking the textbooks  
DAVE: stabbing defense for smelling weird  
DAVE: trying to hang the teacher   
KANAYA: Yes I Imagine She Would Have Excelled Quite Quickly   
DAVE: wait what  
DAVE: oh right

Somehow you'd managed to forget yet again that 90% of troll culture involves new and inventive ways of killing each other, except without the new and inventive parts. Naturally your next thought is of that whole fiasco, even though you've repeatedly assured both yourself and Terezi that you're over it, and yeah, you're gonna go ahead and chug as much of this bottle as you can before coming up for air too. Less because the memory itself is surfacing, and more because you're uncomfortably aware of both the fact it was 17 weeks and not-quite-two-days-but-give-it-like-an-hour ago, and that 17 weeks isn't really all that long.

You close your eyes for a few seconds and just kind of lose yourself to the tingly warmth that surges up your neck and down your wrists and basically anywhere else you've got arteries big enough to actually feel them dilating. It's a feeling you think you could get used to, in a "there's nothing better to do around here most days anyway" sort of way. Next time you want loud music and flashing lights and a whole stack of pizza though. Maybe a ping-pong table and a hot tub too if you've got the grist for it. Gotta do this teenage endless summer thing right.

You take another sip and sink lower still, until you're too low to rest your arms on the couch anymore.

DAVE: you can change the channel if ya wanna  
DAVE: ive seen this one like at least ten times

You pick the remote up off the floor and toss it toward the splesbian lazily, causing it to bounce into her. 

KANAYA: I Am Fine With This Thank You  
KANAYA: Though I May Lower The Volume A Touch If That Is Alright  
KANAYA: I Was Going To Read For A While Actually  
KANAYA: My Ancestor Gave Me A Data Storage Chip With A Few Recommendations   
DAVE: ok cool  
DAVE: wait  
DAVE: holy shit  
DAVE: how  
DAVE: how does that even work  
DAVE: like are you legit readin ghost files right now   
KANAYA: Not At The Present Moment  
KANAYA: However Yes I Suppose They Are Files That Strictly Speaking Do Not Exist As They Are From The Afterlife   
DAVE: wow  
DAVE: wow  
DAVE: shit  
DAVE: im pretty sure thats gainst science somehow or someshit  
DAVE: wow   
KANAYA: So Says The Time Traveler   
DAVE: yeah but no cuz see  
DAVE: time travel shit makes sense cuz like im only goin back to make sure to do things that have already been done cuz ive axelly always been there doin them  
DAVE: but like  
DAVE: shit  
DAVE: wow  
DAVE: ghost files  
DAVE: wow   
KANAYA: Are You Alright?  
KANAYA: If You Will Pardon The Ironic Reference You Are Sounding Like A Damaged Grooved Musical Disc   
DAVE: shhhh  
DAVE: damnt  
DAVE: didn your alielesbian space bugmom ever tell ya not to inner up when someone was gettin his mind blown   
KANAYA: My What?   
DAVE: your lucy   
KANAYA: You Mean My Lusus?   
DAVE: im ponderin the myst trees of freaky cthulu space here  
DAVE: i need a minute  
DAVE: or maybe like five

Or maybe just the rest of this bottle of cider.

You go for both, just to be safe, and by the time the part of the movie where everything starts blowing up happens, you've not only slid all the way to the floor, you've turned yourself around so your feet are on the couch instead and are too busy trying to balance bottle number six on your forehead between sips to even try paying attention to the screen. It's upside down anyway, which makes the car chases very, very weird.

Oh and you've forgotten what Kanaya even said that blew your mind, but free association has lead you to murmur an incoherent rap about Scully and Mulder. Except you're pretty sure you're actually saying it much louder than that because Kanaya keeps casting you glances.

Then again maybe she's just hungry.

Plus you don't even hear the footsteps approaching until there's already a black and grey pillar looming over you.

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT.  
KARKAT: KANAYA, WHAT DID YOU DO TO STRIDER.  
KARKAT: WAIT, NEVERMIND. HOW INSENSITIVE OF ME. I FORGOT HE DOESN'T NEED ANY HELP TO APPEAR MENTALLY DEFICIENT. NOT TO MENTION, IF HE HAD GOTTEN ASSISTANCE FINDING HIS WAY TO SUCH A BRAZENLY UNDIGNIFIED STATE, IT PROBABLY WOULDN'T BE FROM THE ONLY OTHER ONE ON THIS DOOM JOURNEY WHO HASN'T REPLACED THEIR THINKSPONGE WITH AN EXTRA SET OF SHAMEGLOBES. CLEARLY YOU'RE A BYSTANDER HERE, AS MUCH A VICTIM OF STRIDER'S DISGRACEFUL CONDUCT AS HE IS.

Oh man. Karkat and his rants are a _trip_ , just like always.

You make sure to tell him this.

DAVE: oh man  
DAVE: ahahaha krabby  
DAVE: you and yer rants are such a fuckin trip

He stares down at you like you've grown a second head. Or maybe your shades are just off. You grab at your face to make sure they're still on.

Yep.

And you're pretty sure you've still only got one head so you figure your hair must just be hilariously messed up or something because you don't know why else Karkat'd be giving you that heinously perplexed look.

KARKAT: WHAT THE SHIT ARE YOU ON?   
KANAYA: I Think He May Have Ingested Some Of The Remaining Mind Honey Sollux Was Using To Repair The Servers  
KANAYA: He Referred To Himself As Buzzed   
KARKAT: OH GREAT. BECAUSE TESTING THE EFFECTS OF TELESTIMULANTS ON LOWER LIFE FORMS SOUNDS LIKE A FANTASTIC PLAN.   
KANAYA: I Am Not The One Who Provided Him With Said Substances  
KANAYA: And In Any Case Humans Do Not Naturally Possess Abilities Of A Psychic Nature So I Do Not Believe We Are In Any Danger   
DAVE: hahaha whatre yall talkin bout   
KARKAT: YOUR CONTINUING FORAYS INTO EVER MORE CREATIVELY SHITTY LIFE CHOICES. BUT SINCE THAT'S A POPULAR SUBJECT HERE IN ASSHOLE TOWN, I'LL NARROW IT DOWN FOR YOU: WE'RE TALKING ABOUT A CAPE WEARING JACKASS WHO DECIDED TO DOSE HIMSELF WITH THINKPAN AMPHETAMINES, IN THE PROCESS PROPELLING HIMSELF ACROSS THE FINE LINE BETWEEN NORMAL EVERYDAY DAVE BULLSHIT AND FLAT OUT FUCKING MORONITY.   
DAVE: i ate what now   
KARKAT: MIND HONEY, YOU LOADBAG.   
DAVE: oh  
DAVE: nah rose jus gave me some cider   
KARKAT: SOME WHAT?   
DAVE: booze

That answer is met by the same blank look, so you try a few more words.

DAVE: liquor  
DAVE: booze  
DAVE: drank  
DAVE: hootch  
DAVE: moonshine  
DAVE: bottoms up  
DAVE: beer  
DAVE: the hard stuff   
KARKAT: WHAT?   
DAVE: alcohol   
KARKAT: YOU'VE BEEN INGESTING CLEANING SOLUTION?   
DAVE: shit no  
DAVE: this is jus aj with a kick  
DAVE: damn so yall really don have keggers   
KARKAT: YOU KNOW, EVERY EVENING WHEN I WAKE UP, I ASK MYSELF, IS THIS THE WAKE CYCLE WHEN DAVE WILL FINALLY ACHIEVE THE SENTIENCE REQUIRED TO COMMUNICATE WITH THE REST OF US. AND EVERY TIME, THE ANSWER IS NO, IT'S FUCKING NOT.  
KARKAT: BUT TONIGHT YOU'VE SURPASSED EVEN MY WILDEST EXPECTATIONS. CONGRATULATIONS.   
DAVE: damnt what do ya even do fer fun on troll planet  
DAVE: like teenagers are sposed to spend alla their time fuckin themselves over with varus subs tenses n gettin laid an shit  
DAVE: the fuck do you even doooo   
KARKAT: WELL WE SURE AS FUCK DON'T VOLUNTARILY INTOXICATE OURSELVES. NOT UNLESS WE'VE GOT A DEATH WISH, BUT THEN WE STILL HAVE THE SELF-RESPECT REQUIRED TO GO INSULT A HIGHBLOOD'S MOIRAIL. YOU KNOW, SOMETHING MORE DIGNIFIED THAN THIS.

You hear a cough from Kanaya's general direction, and look over at her. She's visible from under the lower edge of your shades from this angle, and while you might be imagining it she looks a little greener than normal. Maybe you're just not used to seeing her not glowing yet. The noise distracts Karkat from yelling in your general direction for a few seconds, and you take the opportunity to scoot over slightly, because he's in between you and the upside down car chase on TV, and you're kind of sick of staring at his crotch in attempts at looking past him.

You also pull bottle number seven out of your sylladex, just for good measure.

KARKAT: DON'T YOU FUCKING START.   
KANAYA: I Have No Idea What You Are Referring To  
KANAYA: I Was Merely Going To Interject That If My Understanding From Rose Is Correct Young Humans Use Soporific Beverages For Their Antidepressant Effects To Help Relieve Stress  
KANAYA: I Was Only Joking Before About The Mind Honey  
KANAYA: Buzzed Appears To Be A General Slang For Intoxication In The Case Of Human Vernacular   
KARKAT: WELL FUCKING THANKS FOR CLUEING ME IN BEFORE I MADE AN ASS OF MYSELF.   
KANAYA: You Are Quite Welcome  
KANAYA: Rose Had About The Same Number Of Bottles Last Week And Behaved In A Similar Manner  
KANAYA: Though I Believe Daves Larger Build Has Dampened The Effect To Some Degree   
DAVE: damn straight  
DAVE: bro didn raise no pansyass lightweight  
DAVE: and yknow this cider tastes real great  
DAVE: gonna keep chuggin till its real late  
DAVE: yknow i still miss my apple juice  
DAVE: but its time for strider to cut loose  
DAVE: gonna stop hangin around like a caboose  
DAVE: or like when his space girlfr-  
DAVE: aww shit  
DAVE: no  
DAVE: uh  
DAVE: hey krabby quick  
DAVE: what else rhymes with juice   
KARKAT: GO FUCK YOURSELF STRIDER.   
DAVE: do trolls have a difrent definition of rhyme  
DAVE: hey vampy help me out here

Alas, the lesbispace ignores your pleas as well, typing away at a speed that tells you she's definitely not reading whatever she said she was gonna read before, because reading doesn't involve writing last you checked. Might be another vocab disconnect though. There's been a lot of those. 

You blame hormones.

At least, you would if you had the presence of mind to.

Instead, you just try to drink out of an empty bottle, then frown and try to put it on the coffee table - pardon you, the socialization block low-level beverage docking plateau - only to miss by a few inches and have it drop to the ground instead. You give exactly no shits, because you aren't a space player, thank you very much, so you can hardly be expected to realize the exact distance between you and less relevant objects, and anyway the glass doesn't break so whatever.

Okay maybe you give like half a shit, but only because you are being glared at very ferociously by the space player who just so happens to be over on the couch, but if you couldn't reach the table you highly doubt she can reach you without standing up first, so that shit's more of a wet fart and

DAVE: OW  
DAVE: whadafuck dude

And anyway Karkat deciding that literally kicking you while you're down is in any way shape or form an appropriate course of action has just commandeered any shits you theoretically might have had to give so you're fresh out of methane molecules to donate to the Kanaya side of life. You rub your shoulder a little and glare at him.

Oh right, shades. Eyebrows disappearing beneath them. Glaring being ineffective.

Every once in awhile you find reasons the shades John gave you are slightly less awesome than the ones Bro raised you on, but then you promptly forget them because you remember John was somehow insanely rich enough to get them for you and that's cooler than ebay knockoff anime shades any day.

Especially because your middle finger serves as a universally recognizable, arguably more offensive substitute for mere crossed glaring. Plus you can even make it right side up from Karkat's perspective just in case he's too stupid to make out facial expressions and hand signals upside down, which you have more than enough evidence to prove in a court of law if necessary. You know from experience. It doesn't hurt that the judge is on your side, of course.

Except when the punishment involves her honor's tongue and sections of your anatomy she hasn't gotten to scour for candy-flavored goodness yet. Those don't count because you always make sure you pick a really shitty lawyer out of the plush lineup in those situations, if Terezi doesn't assign you one of them before you get the chance.

One day you sat down and questioned why a judge who earnestly wanted her streets clean so badly would choose punishments which discourage crime about as well as two-for-one coupons discourage pizza purchases, but you quickly realized that it's easier for an official of her position to get re-elected if she has both a high conviction rate and a pleased populace, and you make up at least a third of the sentient members of both demographics.

Karkat could probably have video footage of you telling him to go put the thermal hull up his ass and handing him the sylladex card and you'd still get the better end of the trial. So you throw in your other middle finger and a smug grin for good measure.

He gives a disgusted snort and asks you how long you've been on the floor like this. Or maybe he asks Kanaya, you can't really tell, but you also don't care because he said the words "how long" and you are too busy laughing in equally raucous appreciation of both your continued lack of temporal awareness and the never ending perfection that is juvenile double entendres. For a couple minutes you just lay there, letting the waves of hilarity wash over you, another round of hysteria over one of the jokes hitting you each time the other starts to wear down.

At some point, even looking at Karkat's increasingly alarmed expression is enough to crack you up again, but now your stomach's starting to hurt from all the laughter. You grab your cape and pull it over your face so you can have a chance to catch your breath without him setting you off again.

You let out a long sigh as the chuckles finally fade away, and slowly pull your cape back away again.

Karkat is still standing over you, and his face is scrunched so dramatically he looks like a Jim Carey character by now.

Despite your best efforts, you let out a long hiss of laughter from between your teeth, then cover your face again as you crack back up. You chance another glance at him a few guffaws later, with predictable results. A few rinse and repeats later you decide that gog damn it he's gotta be making this faces on purpose because holy shit they just get more ridiculous every time you look.

He goes to kick you in the shoulder again, but gets you in the side of the head instead because right then is when someone else decides to walk into the common room, and that's distracting enough that your head winds up right in the path of his shoe. You only kind of grunt because it doesn't really hurt, he's kicked you way harder, but you do reach to straighten out your shades before waving at your sister.

KARKAT: OH GOOD, IT'S YOU. WE NEED YOU TO FIX STRIDER.   
ROSE: Oh? And what about my dear brother seems to be broken? He looks quite intact to me.

She gives you a half wave as she passes behind the sofa, sitting down on the opposite arm, beside Kanaya.

KARKAT: HE'S GONE FROM MERELY DEFECTIVE TO TERMINAL LEVELS OF THINKPAN ROT. IF YOU INTERVENE NOW THERE'S STILL A CHANCE HE CAN AVOID BECOMING HELMET SKULL NUMBER TWO.   
ROSE: I fail to see where my assistance is required in any of this.   
KARKAT: YOUR SPECIES, YOUR RESPONSIBILITY.   
ROSE: He's never needed me to authorize his questionable life choices before. If anything, I'm fairly certain he's the good Legislacerator's burden to monitor.   
KARKAT: FIRST OF ALL, I KNOW DAMN WELL YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GAVE HIM THE SOPORIFICS TO BEGIN WITH. SECOND, THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY I AM LEAVING AN INTOXICATED HUMAN UNDER THE SOLE SUPERVISION OF THEIR MATESPRIT. NOT AGAIN.   
DAVE: ill allow it   
KARKAT: SHUT UP, BULGEDIVER. NO ONE ASKED YOU.

You grab at his leg for that one, hoping to knock him off balance while he's still distracted by Rose. He notices. You miss, and this time when his sneaker slams into your skull you know it's on purpose.

ROSE: On second thought, maybe I ought to alchemize him some head gear after all. I'm not sure how long his remaining synapses will be able to hold out against the combined desolation of ethanol and our angered gods.   
KARKAT: HEY HERE'S AN IDEA. EITHER YOU HELP ME GET STRIDER'S USELESS WALKNUBS OFF THE SOFA BEFORE OUR ONLY MEANS OF SANITIZING IT IS TO JUST QUIT WHILE WE'RE AHEAD, LIGHT IT ON FIRE LIKE ITS PREDECESSOR, AND ALCHEMIZE A MORE WATERPROOF REPLACEMENT, OR YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN SLURRY HOLE.   
ROSE: Hmmm… No, I'm afraid I'm not fond of either of those propositions.

This time he's distracted enough that you actually get a decent hold on his ankle. You give it a good jerk, sending him stumbling backward almost into the TV, and you barely have a chance to get your arms up to guard your head before he's swearing and coming at you with a furious series of kicks. It hurts, but it's kind of dulled by how much alcohol you have in your system (an unexpected but awesome side effect), and anyway you're too busy laughing to give much of a shit anyway.

After a few seconds, and one good kick to your side that actually makes you wince, you hear Kanaya clear her throat again and Karkat pauses with a growl.

KARKAT: I'LL ASK YOU ONE MORE FUCKING TIME, DAVE. GET YOUR GROSS FOOT COVERINGS OFF THE DAMN COUCH SO SOMEONE MORE CIVILIZED CAN USE IT FOR ITS INTENDED PURPOSE.   
DAVE: akshully im pretty sure thads the firs time youv asked  
DAVE: an here i thought you coud count   
KARKAT: *STRIDER*!

You barely manage to roll out of the way before he kicks at you again, and naturally you choose the direction that sends you colliding into the coffee table. Oops. Still, he seems to accept the hand you raise as "stop", even if you are laughing the whole while.

DAVE: alrigh alrigh ill move  
DAVE: don get yer panties all wrinkled krabcake

With some effort, and a hand on the coffee table, you manage to get to your hands and knees, then put one foot under you.

The second foot doesn't go as well.

You're going to have to talk to the airline later because whoever's piloting the meteor chooses this exact moment to practice their evasive maneuvers. You're stuck grabbing at whatever's within reach so you don't topple while the room does a barrel roll around you, then leaning your head into it while your stomach recalculates for gravity. Once the vertigo settles, "whatever" turns out to be Karkat's arm and chest respectively, a position you're not keen to stay in.

You jerk your head up just as the first rumbles of profanity start out of the troll's mouth.

Unfortunately for both of you, Karkat's gone and put his head right in yours' path.

You're very, very, keenly aware of the crunching sound as the back of your skull collides with his face. It's a noise you've felt firsthand at least three times before, and that's just since you switched school districts in fourth grade.

Despite your best attempts to abscond while he's busy clutching his nose and listing off every curse he hadn't used yet today - and a few he had - someone's gone and put a couch behind you and you find yourself sprawled in the seat instead. For several stunned seconds you just sit there, trying not to laugh but failing miserably. Maybe it's just the continued, glaring absence of time's usual beatboxing keeping your thoughts in order, but nothing feels quite real, not even the throbbing pain in the back of your head or the sight of bright red dripping from between Karkat's fingers.

KARKAT: GOG FUCKING DAMN IT STRIDER YOU SHITBREATHED LOADSTAIN!  
KARKAT: I AM GOING TO SHRED YOU INTO SO MANY PIECES YOU'LL WISH I'D JUST KILLED YOUR SORRY ASS INSTEAD!

You're not sure how you manage to duck the first swing of his sickle with your brain in its current state; only that there's no way you'll be that lucky a second time, and that having to yank his weapon back out of the upholstery won't slow him down enough to matter. You're off the sofa in a flash, barely clearing the arm before his next swing rakes it open, and it only takes half a stumble to get you on your feet, facing him, busted as ever sword leveled between you and him.

From somewhere near the door, you hear your girlfriend's familiar cackle. Naturally. You're sure sharks could learn a few things from her when it comes to sniffing out blood. You stopped trying to figure out how she manages it months ago, and you're sure as hell not going to ponder it right now. You've got more important things to worry about, like trying to slice Karkat in the nose-holding arm while avoiding his other's attack.

Sometimes you actually hate being immortal, because you're pretty sure there'd be a lot less attempts on your life if you weren't. On the other hand, you'd be lying if you said your hopes for your teenage years hadn't included having crazy fights on school property while your friends cheered you on and some hot chick swooned nearby. This isn't campus, but two out of three ain't bad, and-

Oh shit you barely block that one, you've really got to stop getting distracted when there's sharp things aimed at your torso. 

After the third time you manage to get your sword hooked into his sickle without successfully disarming him, you're starting to feel frustrated. Fighting Karkat when he's pissed is usually a much quicker affair than this. You haven't even knocked him off balance yet; instead you're the one wobbling wildly each time you swing or dodge, let alone the cringing stumble when he gets you in the obliques. If you've gained any advantage at all from your erratic movements and his anger, it's negated by the fact your eyes can't track for shit right now.

What else have martial arts movies lied to you about?

The path of your fighting takes loops around the recliner and back toward the couch. Terezi fires off a few half-joking insults when you fail to notice the high five she's requesting as you pass. For once - because again, seriously, when has fighting Karkat ever taken this much of your concentration before - you can't spare the hand anyway. Fortunately, Karkat can't spare one either, and when he tries to use the hand futilely holding back the river of blood his nose has turned into to flick her off as he passes, he winds up hissing in pain, which gives you just enough time to put the recliner in between the two of you.

KANAYA: Do You Think That We Should Stop Them   
ROSE: Shush. You know very well we've agreed to let nature take its course. Besides, they'll never learn to resolve problems on their own if we always hold their hands. They have to grow up eventually.   
KANAYA: I Was More Meaning It Would Be Wise To Not Allow The Injuries To Exceed Our Present Supply Of Bandages   
KARKAT: OH DON'T FUCKING WORRY. I'VE ALREADY CHANGED MY MIND. BY THE TIME I'M DONE WITH THIS SHITFUCKER, SEWING HIM BACK TOGETHER WON'T DO A DAMN THING. I'M GOING TO RIP HIS VASCULAR BLADDER OUT THROUGH HIS BULGE AND SHOVE IT UP HIS SNIFF NODE.   
KANAYA: If Thats The Case Then All I Ask Is You Make It Quick  
KANAYA: Thats My Dinner Youre Getting All Over Your Sweater   
KARKAT: WOW. I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID EARLIER ABOUT STILL HAVING RESPECT FOR YOU. CONGRATULATIONS ARE IN ORDER.  
KARKAT: CUE THE MUSIC! KANAYA MARYAM HAS REACHED A NEW RUNG ON HER ECHELADDER! SHE'S RISEN FROM "GLOWING MEDDLESOME XENOPHILIAC" TO "SELFISH BIOLUMINESCENT NOOKTRAP"! A ROUND OF APPLAUSE!   
DAVE: oh my gog  
DAVE: your voice is doin that stuffy nasal thing  
DAVE: i never thought id say this but  
DAVE: please  
DAVE: dont stop talking

You probably shouldn't have said anything, because his attention was finally off you, but a few more lines of Creative Cursing featuring Gilbert Godfrey with throat cancer would be worth it. Now the murderous glare is pointed straight at your face again.

Oh well, your hysterical laughter would have given you away eventually.

You don't get nearly as much time to ready your sword as you thought you'd have, because rather than go around the recliner, he vaults right over it. You hadn't forgotten his freakish skill in vaulting things - and ever since he forced you to watch the entirety of Thresh Prince, you've known why he can do it, because troll Will Smith pulls that shit in almost every episode and you're pretty sure Karkat got in deep shit with crabdad as a kid leaping over the nutrition block counter fifty times a day - but you had forgotten that the recliner got replaced after Terezi's party. The old one tilted back when you pressed on the back, leading to several hilarious faceplants on Karkat's part before he took it to heart. Unfortunately for you, this one doesn't. Actually you're not even sure it reclines.

What do you even call a recliner that doesn't recline? A reclinot? A disappointment? A coat rack?

Probably an armchair.

Right now, you just call it the shortest distance between Karkat's sickle and your sexy bod. Since you were still busy laughing you react slow, block wrong, and the blade digs into your forearm hard. The cut's not bone deep, you've had worse, but it does make gripping your sword hurt like a bitch.

In the time it takes you to shove him back and try to switch hands, he's swung again, and between the two-handed block and your confused inner ear you stumble backward until your ass and the arm of the sofa get intimate like a Japanese commuter train. You deflect his next swing into the back corner of the sofa, ripping another nice hole in the cushion.

Then he shoulder checks you. That in itself doesn't actually knock you over, but in the process of trying to keep your balance sends you grappling at the back of the couch, but instead of support you find only a handful of stuffing.

It takes a moment for you to realize the hard thing your head clips as you fall is either Kanaya's grubtop or elbow. Clearly you've grown since the last time you wound up knocked onto the couch. She casts you what is either a very disappointed or very bored look, and Rose cranes her head around the side of the lezpire's to second it.

DAVE: hi   
KANAYA: You Should Probably Look Out   
DAVE: what

Karkat's sickle is apparently the what in question, and you fail horribly in your attempt to look out. There's no bones to protect you in the section of stomach his weapon slashes into, leaving your shout of agony very, very real and your sword forgotten on the floor as you grab at the new hole in your side with your not-bleeding arm.

Apparently he's just as surprised as you that he's gotten a clean blow in, because the obsenities flowing freely from his mouth are clearly more out of shock than anger. At least, the ones you can hear over Terezi's sudden shouting and the sound of your heart pounding in your throat.

DAVE: naya?   
KANAYA: Yes Dave?

You're vaguely aware of Rose standing over you, her tone scolding and voice distant, and of the red-on-white of a first aid kit a few inches from your face.

DAVE: i think tha ciders comin back ta visit   
KANAYA: So I Should Move   
DAVE: yeah

She gets up in the sort of very dignified, controlled hurry that only she could manage, just in time for you to lurch sideways and only get about half the contents of your stomach on places she wasn't sitting. Over your own coughing you can make out bits of words that might be "should we put him out of his misery?"

Wrenching your eyes shut, you give a weak thumbs up and let your head fall back on the couch.

When you come to, it's with a startled gasp, hands grabbing for your side first, then your arm, searching for holes that should be there but aren't. No scars, no bandages, not even one of those annoying creases pants give you when they're too tight.

It is also very definitely day 549, time informs you as you lay back down, which rules out the "everything was a dream" option and puts things squarely into "spent the last 2+ hours dead" territory. Normally you can tell exactly how long you've been out because you know when you got killed, but you lost proper sense of time some eleven hours ago and you're not sure how much of that you spent merely drunk or asleep as opposed to regenerating.

You close your eyes and just breathe slowly for a good moment, in and out each for the count of four, letting the universe's familiar ticking fill your awareness and ground you.

To your right, clattering away with a distinct rhythm that doesn't quite clash with time's beat, you can recognize Terezi's manic typing. Every few seconds she ends the tapping with the stronger click of her enter key, then pauses. Eventually you hear Trollian's familiar chime, muffled and distant as it floats from discarded earbuds, and after a few loud, deliberate, sniffs, the cycle repeats. It's comfortingly familiar, the same way the soundtrack to Sonic used to be when Bro would play Sega while you were falling asleep as a kid, and the way the droning of time is now.

Maybe you hadn't really realized that last bit until you did without it for a few hours.

Six minutes into re-entering reality, Terezi gets tired of pretending you're still out cold, and speaks.

TEREZI: ROS3 F1N1SH3D YOU OFF  
TEREZI: SH3 S41D SOM3TH1NG 4BOUT YOU H4V1NG L34RN3D YOUR L3SSON 4ND NOT N33D1NG TH3 H4NGOV3R   
DAVE: how considerate of her

You already know, even before you open your eyes, is that you're in Terezi's block. Your nose pales in comparison to hers, but you know the smell of it by now, and right now you're realizing you can tell the difference in firmness between how this mattress - dragged in here especially for you, since she sleeps in a slime thing usually still - and the one in your block, even though they were made from the same exact cruxite pillar.

You really do rather like being alive.

Terezi starts to type again, then stops after just a couple keystrokes. When you finally look over at her from behind your shades, careful to move nothing but your eyes, you can see her nostrils flaring slightly, the way they do when she's trying to get a good scent at you without being noisy and obvious about it. You let your arm fall off the phantom gash in your stomach and lay it beside her crossed legs. She sniffs, hesitates, types a few more words, wraps her fingers carefully in your own.

Terezi is never careful or hesitant with anything but words, and even those she's extraordinarily good at pretending she's not being careful with. You squeeze her hand.

TEREZI: K4RK4T ST1LL H4S COTTON CR4MM3D UP H1S NOS3  
TEREZI: H3 LOOKS R34LLY R3T4RD3D   
DAVE: hahaha nice

Your laugh is more of a dull chuckle than anything, but it makes her squeeze your hand finally so you figure it was the right reaction. You can't really think of anything to say right now.

Terezi's the kind of girl who'll narrate her whole day out loud though, so she's even worse at silence than you. Somewhere around when you start tapping the seconds on her hand with your thumb, she drops the bomb.

TEREZI: SO WH4TS 1T L1K3?   
DAVE: what   
TEREZI: DY1NG   
DAVE: oh

Her tone is deadpan, casual, calm… everything she never is. A year ago you would have figured she was still feeling guilty about killing you three months back, but you've talked about that at least fifty times and, all nightmares aside, you're both over that.

You can't tell which of the other options is the most morose, so you don't ask her why.

DAVE: sucks major donkey balls  
DAVE: hurts like getting kicked in the nads with a hornets nest  
DAVE: no stars  
DAVE: out of a hundred  
DAVE: do not recommend

She giggles, a result you're pretty damn satisfied with, right up until she sighs instead and gives her screen another long stare. Whiff. Whatever you're supposed to call her turning her nosely attention in a specific direction for an extended period of time.

You let her send another line before you start sitting up. As soon as you move, she closes her husktop and slides it off her lap, then meets you halfway for a kiss.

You flop back down when you get tired of propping yourself up on one elbow, and she follows, sprawling by your side with her head and arms across your chest.

DAVE: you know what the worst part is?   
TEREZI: WH4T?   
DAVE: having to put up with all those stupid ancestors  
DAVE: like can you imagine  
DAVE: we think they can show up any time here but out there  
DAVE: its gotta be like 24/7  
DAVE: for MILLENIA   
TEREZI: J3GUS  
TEREZI: YOUR3 R1GHT TH4T WOULD B3 4WFUL

That gets a real laugh out of her, and yeah, okay, you're feeling way better now, especially because the kiss those jokes earn you isn't strangely apologetic. It's not strangely anything, except all the weird alien qualities kissing her has always had, and since you were out cold for literally the only other kiss you've ever had you have nothing else to go by so none of that's ever really been strange.

A few minutes later, once she's got your shades off (you let her pretty quickly this time, but it still doesn't beat her record) she settles back onto your chest, grinning up at you.

TEREZI: JUST SO YOU KNOW  
TEREZI: TH3 COMMUN4L S34T1NG 4RR4Y 1S 4BSOLUT3LY RU1N3D  
TEREZI: ROS3 S41D SH3S M4K1NG YOU 4ND K4RK4T T4K3 1T B3H1ND TH3 WOODSH3D 4ND BURN 1T SO 1T M4Y JO1N ITS PR3D3C3SSORS   
DAVE: oh damn  
DAVE: so what are you proposing   
TEREZI: TH3Y DO NOT KNOW YOU 4R3 4L1V3 4G41N Y3T  
TEREZI: 3V3RYON3 1S ST1LL LOCK3D 4W4Y 1N TH31R BLOCKS 4ND P3RH4PS 3V3N SL33P1NG  
TEREZI: W3 MUST T4K3 TH1S OPPORTUN1TY TO R3CL41M TH3 C3NTR4L BLOCK FOR C4N TOWN, ST4RT1NG W1TH 4 SU1T4BLY 1RON1C COUCH D3S1GN   
DAVE: oh snap  
DAVE: now youre talking my language  
DAVE: i dare say miss councilwoman  
DAVE: you are coming dangerously close  
DAVE: to giving me a case of the vapors   
TEREZI: SH4M3L3SSLY US1NG MY OWN TURNS OF PHR4S3 4G41NST M3 W1LL C3RT41NLY 34RN YOU MY GOOD GR4C3S   
DAVE: score   
TEREZI: BUT OUR T1M3 1S L1M1T3D  
TEREZI: W3 MUST 4CT B3FOR3 OUR CH4NC3 1S LOST TO SOM3TH1NG…  
TEREZI: FLOR4L   
DAVE: shit  
DAVE: floral?  
DAVE: the nerds are playing hardball tonight  
DAVE: lets get this show on the road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo finally!
> 
> I am proud to announce that this chapter is what sent FRART over the 100,000 word limit. I feel like it was time well spent.
> 
> Incidentally, if you're reading this on 9/14/13 (or thereabouts because lol timezones), you should head over to the meteorshenanigans tumblr. We're planning a pizza party to celebrate, and details of how to come hang out with us on tinychat will be there.


End file.
